


Misericordia

by theladyofthedarkcastle



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: AU, F/M, Multi, Papastiltskin, Rumbelle!Purge, Suspense, The Purge!AU, This one's going to get violent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-31
Updated: 2015-07-31
Packaged: 2018-04-12 05:19:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4466894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theladyofthedarkcastle/pseuds/theladyofthedarkcastle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rum and his son Bae are homeless/very poor and so when the annual Purge comes they are tagged to be hunted by the rich. Rum’s wounded but manages to protect Bae and they limp around asking for help, though no one will open their homes to them. At last Bae hears someone calling from the Library nearby: it’s a woman, small and harmless-looking who turns out to be their savior.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Misericordia

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! The genius, thestraggletag, prompted this idea for an AU Rumbelle version of The Purge and I haven't been able to get it out of my head. Here's to the start of something new, that hopefully, you, my reader, will enjoy. I did this first intro chapter in one sitting and didn't run it through a beta so all mistakes are my own. Enjoy and review, it's going to be an exciting ride! Oh, and the title is the Latin word for mercy. It seemed appropriate and now I can tell my parents I'm using my Latin for something. Enjoy!

_Two Days Until The Annual Purge_

A television was blaring in the corner of the decrepit diner. Every other week in the year, that particular corner of the restaurant was silent; as silent as the patrons who graced the sticky booths. Not this week. Not this day. 

“The New Founding Fathers have given us a bless-”  
“How do you think the economy will rise after this ye-”  
“Preliminary reports, gathered from a pool of data containing gun sales and secur-”

The matron of the diner snapped the broadcasts off with a quick press to a button on the remote. 

“Hey what gives, sister? Can’t a man get some information around here? What good’s the Purge if we can’t properly prepare ourselves for it.” 

Quick nods of agreement were found in almost every corner of the small space. 

The lone waitress of the establishment, famous in the neighborhood for her clothing choices rather than her effectiveness, stepped around the old woman, clicking the volume back up with one smooth motion. 

“-pecting the most successful Purge yet. Remember, it’s not too late to stock up on the latest hunting technology. Be sure to look into the new cutting edge security systems too. Keep your valuables safe while you keep your soul safe. It is a Purged soul that is a cleansed soul. A nation reborn.” 

_One Day Until The Annual Purge_

“This is supposed to keep me...safe?” 

“Yes. This security system might seem, antiquated, to some, but frankly, here in Storybrooke we’re not exactly talking about new, high tech buildings. Some of the older architecture has to be taken into consideration.” 

Her hand touched the new metal doors that would slide down over the entrance to the library. Two pieces of metal were all that were going to protect her from whatever evil would be flooding the streets. Her father, oh her poor father, had nearly lost his mind when he’d found out his precious daughter had taken a job not only on the other side of the world from her native Australia, but in the only country on Earth that entertained these measures. 

She took a deep breath, forcing herself to hold it until she could hear her heart beat pressing against her ears. The Purge was for the good of the nation as a whole. As long as she protected herself and didn’t think too hard on the particulars, she’d be fine. She’d always been fine. 

Glancing down at the new hardcover she’d left on her desk, her own personal Purge mission, she once more made eye contact with the man into whose hands she was placing her life. 

“Show me again how to engage the system.” 

“Well, it’s simple. You have a keypad attached to the safe room at the back of the facility. You will use the same code from the old system and then press the “arm” button. Easy. Now, there are some...well...blind spots, if you will. Because the library is housed in the clock tower that also houses the town siren, as you well know, we couldn’t secure the entirety of the bell tower itself. Your apartment should be secure but it will be much safer for you to stay down here in your safe room, with the security doors engaged for the entire twelve hours.” 

Simple enough indeed. Who would want to hunt the librarian? No one. That’s what the man was telling her, in so many words. Just hole up with your books, make no trouble, and walk out the next morning. 

A smile and a soft ‘thank you’, returned with a fairly standard “Safe night!” from the man, and the government vehicle pulled away from the curb, leaving her with her books and her metal walls. He obviously hadn’t bothered to look at the original plans for the building, the plans that showed the entrance point to another, much more protected, area directly underneath the Storybrooke Free and Public Library. 

She turned from the entrance, pausing to engage the lock on the door and flip the open sign to close. There were few things Belle was used to leaving to chance, her life certainly wasn’t one of them. 

_The Day Of The Annual Purge_

It was already here. Another year had passed and he still hadn’t figured out to stop time. Stop time or figure out how to smuggle his family out of this godforsaken country. New Founding Fathers. Bah, more like the old ones; ushering in a new era of death and destruction in the name of a twisted idea of expansion and peace. 

Peace. 

The world was not made of peace. The world was made of evil. The Purge had been designed to rid the world of people like him and his son. People who the “greater powers” deemed worthless. People who simply couldn’t stand in their ‘proper place’. He accepted his role. He knew his worth. But his boy...his precious boy. His precious boy was not some worthless excuse for space, draining the economy. No. His boy was the bravest, brightest, kindest person he’d ever known. They’d only come to this damned nation to try and make a better place for themselves, carve out a new life. Get away from the past, from the hurt. But then the world had changed, and this place, this ‘land of milk and honey’ was no more than an echo, an echo of what it had been, now built on the blood of the innocent. 

Rumford checked his watch, his one material item of worth. The small object did more than track time; it also measured heart rate. If he was hurt, or God forbid, Bailey was hurt, he would have some kind of measure of how fast he’d have to work. 

Or how fast Bae would have to get away. 

He tugged the coat tighter to this thin frame as their ‘home’ was rattled by a passing car. It was the safest place Rumford had been able to find. A small overpass with a construction error resulting in a pillar with two walls attached. It created a small alcove of sorts. One just large enough for a small man and his boy, and just small enough to keep it from being desirable enough to fight others away. 

A small beep alerted him to the changing of the hour. 

Six o clock. 

Too late. Too late already. There were always people who thought it would be funny to start Purging early. Most police wouldn’t bother trying to capture someone who could legally continue in a few hours time. 

Bae shouldn’t have left. He shouldn’t have been the damned coward that he was for once in his damned life and kept the boy in his sight. The boy had wanted to go for provisions. Like provisions would help them if someone thought to hunt them down. Rum didn’t even have a gun. 

The wind was brisk. This Purge would harken towards winter, rather than the spring it was supposed to be in truth. Where was Bae? 

This was Bailey’s sixteenth Purge Night. And, as he did every year, Rum prayed to any deity he could think of that it would not be his last. If it was Bailey’s last Purge, it would be his last Purge as well. There was no life outside his boy. No point. No purpose. 

A shout drew his attention to the darkened overpass. A shout. Bae. He was alright. He was safe. 

“Papa! Papa! You’ll never guess what I found!” 

“Bae, get in here now.” 

His boyish body bouncing into their space was the only measure of peace Rumford had ever known. His hands ran over the boy almost of their own accord, running a system of thorough checks on his person. Bae was unharmed, if a little bulkier than usual. 

“What did you bring, Bae?” Rumford’s voice felt stretched, his vocal chords already giving in to the paralyzing fear of the upcoming night. 

“I was out by the mayor’s…” 

“Bae!” Rum’s voice was tight now. Bae shouldn’t have been there. That was dangerous. That was stupid. That was the most dangerously stupid thing he could’ve done. “Bae, you know why you can’t be seen by the rich folk. If they see you or me, they’ll see us as what they think we are, worthless pigs. We don’t belong in their world and if they want to kill me or you, they’ll stop for nothing and I...I can’t-” Rum’s voice choked, sobs squeezing his throat, tears leaking out of his eyes. “If they hurt you...I can’t defend you. And you…” He reached for his boy’s face, stroking the curls out of his eyes. “You must be safe.” 

Bae’s eyes glittered with something Rumford had never seen before, something he wasn’t sure he liked. 

“Papa, that’s what I was trying to tell you. I wasn’t seen by the mayor, I just went through her trash.” 

He opened his coat, revealing a long shot gun with a packet of extra ammunition. “It’s my turn to protect us. To protect you.” 

“Bailey.” Rumford breathed. “Bae, this…this isn’t you. What have you done? You must get rid of this, now.” He tried to raise his voice, tried to infuse the fear he felt into his words, to let Bae know all he did was for him, to make sure he survived this night. 

“Papa, don’t you see? We won’t be defenseless.” He was pleading now, the boyish whining making him sound younger. A twinge in Rumford’s heart resonated through his form as he remembered a much younger Bailey asking for a new toy for Christmas. He hadn’t understood why they hadn’t have been able to have it then and he wouldn’t understand why he couldn’t have that gun now. 

“No. No, Bae. I might be a coward, but you will never be a killer. End of discu-” 

Another small beep. 

Seven o clock. 

The siren that was above the library screamed, breathing life into the nightmare Rumford lived every night when he closed his eyes, expect this was his reality. 

He threw Bae behind him, propping the three cement blocks he had scavenged over their ‘front door’. He would keep his boy safe. 

It had begun.


End file.
